dancehall flow artist set to rip the stage apart/
and bumrush oppression like that dude from braveheart/
my sounds travel at a pace that bitchs tend to gravitate to/
and when the compression hit you, it may evaporate you/
leavin spines all twisted, necks hurtin for days/
cause the crowd gets louder when my current shit plays/
i cater to the masses, mostly the hoodie-rockin-crews/
so fellas grab ya mistress, while i kick some coochie-poppin-grooves...